


hold it in

by jaylocked



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, but actually i'm very sorry, i do not stand by these sortings at all, i'll tag as i go? probably, in which the foxes are actually the badgers, it's all for the plot, yep this is a harry potter au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7364599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylocked/pseuds/jaylocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>No Quidditch,</i> screams his mother somewhere in his memory. <i>Remember, no Quidditch, even if you think you’re alone. Flying is bad enough, but that’s something we need.</i></p><p>But then Neil thinks to the freedom he feels when he’s airborne, the memories he has of laughter and the thrill of avoiding a Bludger, and the last day of his childhood, when he and Day had last talked.</p><p>He sighs, and something like triumph flickers into Day’s intense stare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> title from jukebox the ghost song of the same name

“Well, Mr. Josten, it looks like everything is all set up,” Professor Whittier announces, peering over his spectacles at the boy before him with a kindly smile. “The Ministry should be sending the rest of the paperwork over later. Do you have any questions?”

Neil forces himself to maintain eye contact as he nods. “When will I be Sorted?”

The older man folds his hands neatly in front of him, studying the boy before him. “Typically, all the Sortings occur just before the Welcome Feast, and students sit with their new House thereafter.”

Neil frowns and fidgets.

“Is there something wrong with that, Mr. Josten?”

“No, sir,” Neil says, shaking his head. “It’s just that I’d hoped to blend in more, and that seems like it’d draw attention to me.”

Something softens in the professor’s gaze.

“This is a highly unusual situation,” Whittier says slowly, his piercing gaze still fixed on Neil’s posture. “I don’t think anybody would object to doing a private Sorting.”

Neil tries not to perk up. Nodding thoughtfully, the headmaster rises and crosses to a old, dusty hat in quick strides. With no ceremony, the hat slips onto Neil’s head a moment later.

“Well, well, this _is_ unusual,” a voice murmurs in his ear. He sits as still as he can. “Welcome to Hogwarts...Neil. Now, where to put you?”

 _Whatever is least remarkable,_ he thinks. _Whatever will let everyone look the other way._

“Is that what you _really_ want? I see so much in you...passion, intelligence, bravery...you could thrive in Gryffindor, or perhaps Slytherin–”

 _Whichever is overlooked,_ he insists. The hat chuckles.

“Better be HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat finally announces. “You’ll find your place in time, Neil Josten.”

* * *

Hogwarts is a lot to take in. It’s grand and imposing and breathtaking in its stability, in its soaring towers and glittering lake. Neil has been all around the world, has attended Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and even Ilvermorny for a spell, but none of them had the same lore around them as Hogwarts.

 _Never Hogwarts,_ his mother had told him, over and over, quietly and loudly, across tables and sheets. _Stay away from Hogwarts._

But she is gone now, just a memory of _Incendio_ and smoke, and Neil is left to fend for himself. Fending for himself, in this case, meant asking Uncle Stuart to help find him a place to finish his education in peace. To Uncle Stuart, of course, education is synonymous with Hogwarts.

The train ride had been a blur as Neil tucked himself in the corner of a car, curled away from the others who joined him with hesitant glances and whispered conversation as he pretended to sleep. The first day at school is something Neil can handle, even as the accents and languages change.

A year away from school, fourteen months since his mother’s death, fourteen months without _magic,_ and Neil is tired. Tired of being on his toes at all times, tired of being somebody who he isn’t, tired of not knowing who he is underneath it all, tired of the fucking Trace. _Tired_.

And Hogwarts...Hogwarts feels like a dream. Hogwarts is something that Neil has imagined all his life, a snatch of a childhood dream. But here he is, sitting quietly at the Hufflepuff table, waiting for the feast to begin.

“Hey, are you new?” a voice at his elbow asks, and Neil turns carefully to face a curious looking girl. “I’m Dan Wilds, Quidditch Captain and seventh year.”

Neil stares at her, cautious, calculating. What’s her motive? What’s she looking to gain?

Wilds huffs and rolls her eyes. “Fine, be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly.” Then, quieter, to herself, “It is _Hufflepuff_ , after all.”

Neil keeps to himself. He doesn’t need to make friends. He’s here to learn.

* * *

Learning, it turns out, takes far less time at Hogwarts than it had at Durmstrang. Neil finds himself with more free time than he knows what to do with, but he finds ways to occupy himself. He shakes off his Housemates, some of whom seem determined to include him even though he wants anything _but_ inclusion, and wanders the halls, explores the grounds. Sits on the side of the Quidditch Pitch.

He resists the lure of stealing a school broom and going for a spin for as long as he can, but the gleaming grass and empty hoops win out. Three weeks into the year, after a muttered _Alohomora_ , Neil finally breathes. The cold, clear air goes straight to his head, and everything seems easier.

He missed flying like he missed his mother: something deep within him calls out, even as he knows his mother would smack him upside the head for not being smarter. Well, his mother would have countless objections to his present situation, but it’s best not to dwell.

Neil winds lazy laps through the goal posts before pushing himself down the field, pushing and pushing until the wind burns in his lungs and his cheeks are almost frozen. He loses himself in the familiar rush and exhilaration of flying. Minutes or hours later, he finally stops by the hoops where he’d begun, chest heaving but spirits undeniably lifted.

The sounds below him, however, instantly raise his defenses once more, and he lands cautiously, eyeing the other students who’ve gathered on the pitch during his time in the clouds. He counts nine of them, all clad in Quidditch robes and holding their brooms, and all watching him.

“Josten, isn’t it?” Wilds calls out, striding towards him confidently. “That was some incredible flying. Why didn’t you try out for the team?”

Neil shrugs, doesn’t meet her eyes. Watches the team behind her. Lets his eyes rest on Kevin Day for just a moment before finally looking at the girl before him.

“Listen, Josten, we’re in a bit of a pickle,” Wilds says earnestly, stopping in front of him and leaning against her broom. “Janie’s just gone on academic probation again, so we need a new Seeker _yesterday_. We’re not playing in the first match, thank Merlin, but we need to train somebody as soon as possible. You’re one helluva flyer, and that’s about 80% of being a good Seeker. So what do you say? Care to give it a go? If it’s not working, well...we’ll figure something else out.”

Neil’s heart feels like it’s about to break his ribcage, but he keeps his face perfectly neutral. “No thanks. I’ve never cared much for Quidditch.”

Neil turns as quickly as he can without looking like he’s fleeing and flees. He ignores the yells that follow him and the weight of green eyes on his back. The aftertaste of the lie feels tangible on his tongue, but he’s used to that by now.

* * *

Day corners him in the Entrance Hall a few days later, Andrew Minyard at his shoulder. Neil tenses, immediately searching for an escape route, but the corner they’ve trapped him in halts that line of thinking.

“Why won’t you play?” Day demands, eyes scanning Neil’s face in confusion and frustration, mouth a tense line. Neil resists the urge to Conjure a mirror, check his hair and eye charms, but Day shows no sign of recognition. “There’s no way you fly that well and hate Quidditch. It’s impossible.”

“There are plenty of reasons not to want to play,” Neil hedges. At Day’s shoulder, Minyard is watching with a blank scrutiny that makes Neil’s skin crawl. “I need to focus on my studies.”

“We can get you a tutor.”

“The team isn’t even that _good_.”

“With you and me, we might just win a game this year.”

“I don’t like flying in front of other people, must less the entire school.”

“With enough practice and your talent, you won’t have anything to be embarrassed by.”

Neil purses his lips. Day seems determined, and a determined Day is not something to ignore lightly.

“I’ve never even played Quidditch before,” he tries, one final lie. Day looks unperturbed, and something inside of Neil wonders why it would be _such_ a bad idea.

“You can fly well, and that’s what matters. The rest will come with time.”

Neil slumps against the wall and studies Day. He looks confident that he’ll get his way, and Neil is starting to think it’s justified.

 _No Quidditch,_  screams his mother somewhere in his memory. _Remember, no Quidditch, even if you think you’re alone. Flying is bad enough, but that’s something we need._

But then Neil thinks to the freedom he feels when he’s airborne, the memories he has of laughter and the thrill of avoiding a Bludger, and the last day of his childhood, when he and Day had last talked.

He sighs, and something like triumph flickers into Day’s intense stare.

“Fine,” he eventually concedes. “When’s the first practice?”

“Right now,” Day says, already turning to the front door. Minyard stays in front of Neil, emotionless gaze still intent. Neil meets his eyes with a challenging tilt of his chin, and Minyard turns to follow Day. Left alone, Neil shuts his eyes and exhales.

_Sorry, Mum._

* * *

Neil falls back into Quidditch too easily, even playing a different position. He remembers the thrill of playing with Riko and Kevin and the Quaffle, easy passes and quick thinking, but he thinks he prefers the freedom and isolation of Seeking. He’s left alone, free to roam the pitch and make his own luck.

The team is...interesting. Wilds, Boyd, and Day are clearly serious about Quidditch and have little else in common. The Minyard twins and Hemmick are a cluster of their own, all seemingly different but isolated despite it, and Day joins them off the pitch. Walker floats between everybody as a calming, serene presence with soft smiles and kind eyes. Neil distrusts her immediately. Gordon and Reynolds are either disgusting or fighting, and Neil steers clear of them in either case.

Professor Wymack asks him to his office after the first few days of practice, and they have an awkward chat about how to juggle studies and Quidditch before Wymack levels Neil an assessing gaze.

“The team’s really coming together,” his Head of House informs him, steepling his fingers before his mouth. “Hufflepuff haven’t won the Cup in almost a hundred years, and we don’t hold much of a chance this year. But I think it won’t be embarrassing, and a few of our players can go pro, if they take it seriously enough.”

Neil remains silent. He knows all of this. Eventually, Wymack sighs.

“From what I hear, Josten, you’re a real talent. We’re happy to have you on the Badgers. Just remember that my office door is always open. I can’t lend you a shoulder to cry on, but I do have ears.”

Neil nods and leaves the office before he gives too much away. It’s not Wymack’s fault that any man of his age reminds Neil of his father, but he can’t shake the similarities off easily. Only at practice later does he breathe easily.

* * *

“So, Neil, where’d you go to school before?” Boyd asks one day, sliding onto the bench beside Neil. Neil stills the spoonful of oatmeal before he can take a bite, flicking Boyd a suspicious glance. The older student raises his hands in innocence. “Whoa, man, just trying to get to know you. You’ve been on the team for a week, and I don’t know anything about you besides that you’re wicked fast and have a sixth sense for Bludgers.”

Neil swallows the oatmeal as Boyd spoons a huge assortment of food onto his plate shamelessly.

“I was homeschooled,” Neil finally says. The story is a familiar one, even if his affected accent and language are not. “But my mum decided to get a job to help make ends meet, so they sent me here.”

“No way!” Boyd exclaims around the huge bite he’s just taken. “I can’t imagine being homeschooled. Is it weird to be at Hogwarts now?” Neil shrugs, swirling the oatmeal in his bowl.

Wilds slips onto the bench beside him with a quick kiss and Neil averts his eyes. “Hey, sorry I’m late. My Potions essay last night ended up taking more time than I expected and I overslept.”

“No worries, Dan,” Boyd says easily. He munches on his bacon loudly. Everything he does is loud, Neil thinks, caught between annoyance and awe. His movements are so easy and free, completely unlike Neil’s own cageyness. “I was just asking Neil about what he did before Hogwarts. Can you believe he was homeschooled?”

“Wow.” Wilds whistles lowly, loading her own plate with enough food for two Neils. “I’ve heard the regulation on that is really strict. I bet your parents are geniuses.” Neil shrugs. It’s so off the truth it’s laughable, but he doesn’t need to correct her. “How do you like Hogwarts so far?” Neil shrugs again and Wilds looks amused. “Real talkative Seeker we’ve got.”

“Hey, it’s better than no Seeker at all,” Boyd points out.

“True that,” Wilds agrees. They leave Neil alone after that, talking quietly between themselves, and Neil lets himself relax, bit by bit.

Maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t made a spectacularly stupid decision. Maybe it’ll work out, and Neil can have peace and Quidditch. It’s a happy thought, at the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's a cop out, but so much of this AU is For The Plot it kind of hurts. first off, i don't stand by sorting all of the foxes into hufflepuff, but that's what happened. (then again i guess almost all of them are defined largely by their loyalty? #baltimore) (although i think andrew is def in hufflepuff) and the ravens haven't been introduced yet but...yeah i promise i understand that slytherin is a great house with a lot to offer. it's just...hard to write tfc into this universe for me. (i have several other ideas of how to do it, so who knows, maybe someday i'll do a better job of it.)(and yes, this means that i'm ignoring nora's sortings...sorry if people are opposed to that.)
> 
> also, the ages are all switched around because otherwise it would be super weird for them to be mature and romantic and everything? so basically the upperclassmen are seventh years, except matt and andrew's crew are in sixth, and then neil is in fifth. yeah. just roll with it?
> 
> anyway. apologies aside, i'd love to know what you guys think!! this was largely exposition, obviously, and like no andrew, but i should update soon(ish). coming up next: eden's twilight? possibly (#suspense) let me know if there are any terrible mistakes because i just wrote this in one go! thanks for reading (and feel free to come yell at me at my new tumblr, exysexual!) :)


	2. ii.

Even though it’s only October, everybody in his year is apparently already panicking about the upcoming OWLs. Neil finds their anxiety something between vexing and amusing, especially because he finds the material comically easy. Between his previous institutions, his mother’s aggressive teaching methods, and his own reading of the textbooks before the school year had begun, the Hogwarts curriculum is little but a nuisance to him. It is, however, a relief to finally practice the spells he’s been reading about without fear of anybody finding him as result.

“We can help tutor you,” Wilds offers once, when she and Boyd walk by Neil in the Common Room. He’s hunched over a Charms essay, gnawing absently on the tip of his quill.

“I’m fine,” he tells her. She raises her eyebrows but lets it go.

Neil’s life picks up a new rhythm: Quidditch conditioning, class, Quidditch practice, dinner, homework, sleep, repeat. He likes the reliability of the schedule, the way his muscles are sore each night when he finally falls into bed.

As he settles into Hogwarts, some of the awe begins to fade. The school is old and beautiful, yes, but it bears recent scars that are impossible to overlook. The Battle of Hogwarts may have been over for years, but it left its mark behind. Indeed, even the Hufflepuff Common Room shows how times have changed, given its obvious renovations and extensions.

He asks his roommate about it once, and the boy almost falls out of his bed in his eagerness to explain everything to Neil.

“You see, Hogwarts has never been so big before!” Calvin says, wide-eyed and earnest. “The post-War boom has almost tripled enrollment, and the school had to grow to accommodate it. Nobody knows how it happens, but each September, it has just enough room for everybody. Apparently, when my parents went here, each House and Year had only one dormitory!”

The thought is jarring, given the new arrangements: Neil has four roommates, but there are several other rooms for his Yearmates in Hufflepuff. Perhaps that is part of why his mother was so wary of Hogwarts, he muses. It certainly makes it easier to blend in, so Neil doesn’t push beyond that.

Even though being in Hufflepuff puts him in contact with Day, Neil finds that he doesn’t mind it much. His Housemates are never inclined to push him more than he’s comfortable with, and he slowly adjusts to the sheer quantity of yellow and black around him. While he initially hated the Common Room, feeling trapped and uncomfortable, he’s come to appreciate how nobody can enter or exit stealthily, and he can almost relax if he snags a spot facing the entrance.

Although his teammates were content to let him settle in for the first week, accepting his blank stares and non-answers, they start pushing him after that. Wilds and Boyd pop up everywhere, sitting beside him at meals, saying hi to him in the corridors, and offering advice in the Common Room. Walker offers him a smile whenever she seems him, and he feels her eyes on him more than once during practice. Reynolds and Gordon, at least, are happy to leave him alone.

Day is demanding on the pitch, always yelling at Neil even as he does his own complicated drills with the Quaffle, but ignores Neil once practice is over, an arrangement that suits Neil fine. Hemmick offers his small smiles and fleeting glances, and the Minyards barely acknowledge him.

Until, that is, Hemmick pulls him to the side just before lunch the Wednesday after Neil joined the team, clutching a bag and looking shifty. Neil’s instantly on guard, eyeing his teammate warily.

“Heya, Neil!” the other boy chirps, smile strained. “I’ve been asked to inform you that we’ll be going to Godric’s Hollow on Friday, and you’re joining us.”

“I am?” Neil asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Andrew will have nothing else,” Hemmick says slowly, like there’s more to that statement than meets the eye. “He says you’re to wear this.” He thrusts the bag at Neil, who opens it to find expensive-looking black robes and dragonskin boots. “It’s not every day that Andrew’s in the giving mood, so I’d just take it.”

“I have my own clothes,” Neil frowns. Hemmick shrugs again.

“Maybe so, but probably not the right kind for where we’re going,” he shrugs. He flicks a look to Neil’s beat up trainers. “Meet us in our dorm room at 9.” He starts to leave before deciding to add one last thing. “And Neil...just a tip, but Andrew hates lying. You may want to undo the eye charms for the night.”

Neil tenses, but the other boy has already joined the stream of students heading towards the Great Hall. Appetite lost to the knots in his stomach, Neil makes his way down to his dorm, bag in hand. What does it mean that Andrew could tell that he’s using charms for his eyes? Why would he want to see what’s underneath? And why hadn’t he said anything before?

* * *

All of Neil’s belongings have always fit in a small rucksack, not only because he doesn’t own much, but also because his mother charmed it to carry more than it should. The biggest pocket is devoted to his robes, not that he has many, and some Muggle clothes just in case. The other pocket holds his papers, the ones that Stuart had given him before the beginning of the year. The back of the bag, however, is charmed to make anybody but Neil look away, thinking there’s nothing to it. It’s there that his other papers, ones belonging to Chris and Stefan, rest, as well as the money he dares to carry, split across currencies.

He keeps a Quidditch magazine in front of it all, the issue about Day and Moriyama, just in case somebody does think to check the back of the bag.

Nothing in his bag identifies him as Nathaniel Wesninski, but nothing in the bag is quite what a normal fifteen year old carries, either.

Neil stuffs the bag back under his bunk and rises, examining the robes that Hemmick had forced on him. They’re unexpectedly clingy, something that makes him uncomfortable, and somewhat transparent. Not enough to show his scars, but enough to make them more risque than Neil likes. He contemplates his reflection for a long moment, taking in the nondescript brown hair and dull brown eyes, and thinks about what Hemmick hold told him.

With a flick of his wand, his father’s eyes stare back at him.

Shivering, he tucks his wand up his sleeve in the holder he carries after finding no pockets in robes (the impracticality of them is beginning to anger him), and meanders towards the dorm that Hemmick, the Minyards, and Day share. He’s tucked a few Galleons into his boots that rub uncomfortably at his heels, but there doesn’t seem to be a better alternative. He knocks lightly, almost hoping that it’d all been a mistake, but a grinning Hemmick opens the door a moment later.

“Neil! You made it!” he enthuses. Neil raises an eyebrow, but Hemmick fails to notice it as he scans Neil appreciatively, finally resting on his exposed eyes. “Wow, looking good. I’ll have to bat the ladies away from you.” Neil doesn’t react, and Hemmick’s tone turns hopeful. “Or the gents, I suppose? Tell me you swing my way, please. Oh my Merlin, do you?”

“I don’t swing,” Neil says flatly. Hemmick looks flummoxed by such an idea. “How long will this take?”

“I guess I didn’t tell you, but we’ll be staying in Godric’s Hollow overnight.” Hemmick waves away Neil’s confusion. “We have a flat there. Don’t worry about it. Oh, you can come on in!”

Neil picks his way cautiously into the room, assessing it quickly. He sticks by the door, the only point of entry, and takes it all in. The four beds have completely different surrounding areas that no doubt reflect the boys who sleep there. Day’s area is obsessively clean, his broom the only possession in sight, while Hemmick’s is mostly clean, but for some clothes scattered around the floor. Aaron is lounging on his bed, flicking through a textbook, ignoring the mess of clothes and parchments around him, and Andrew’s area is devoid of any personal belongings. The bed, however, is hopelessly messy.

“Are you sure you don’t swing my way?” Hemmick asks from behind him. Neil stiffens.

“Shut up,” Aaron sighs, dropping his textbook and standing. “Don’t you have _Erik_ anyway?”

“I’m sure Erik wouldn’t mind sharing him,” Hemmick leers. Neil tries not to move, and Hemmick shrugs before grinning and moving on. “Erik’s my boyfriend. I met him on an exchange to Durmstrang– I actually went there all of my fifth year, but then I had to repeat the year here for OWLs. That’s why I’m stuck with my cousins and Kevin, even though I’m so much older and more mature than them.”

Aaron snorts. Neil almost doesn’t hear over the sound of blood rushing to his ears.

“You went to Durmstrang?”

“Yeah! I’ve been back for two years, though. I can tell you all about it, if you want. Or do you have cousins who go there or something?”

Neil shakes his head, still uncomfortably aware of his heart racing. They’d missed each other by a year, but it was such a close call. Just then, Day comes out of the bathroom, looking as sullen and closed off as ever.

“Where’s Andrew?” he asks, stopping in the middle of the room.

“Said he had to deal with something,” Aaron grunts, rolling his eyes. “Should be back any minute.”

“Speak of the devil,” Hemmick grins. Neil turns to find the other Minyard standing in the doorway behind him, regarding the room cooly.

“Ah, Neil! So glad you could make it,” he says, taking in their guest with a small smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. He lingers over Neil’s eyes, his eyebrows rising. “Nice bit of unexpected honesty there.”

Neil returns his cool look wordlessly. Andrew’s smile grows.

“Right, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Hemmick asks after a moment of the staring match. Andrew throws something onto his bed before turning around, the rest following quietly.

“So, Neil, you haven’t gone out with us before,” Hemmick says pointlessly as they leave the warmth and familiarity of the Common Room behind. Neil remains impassive. Hemmick deflates slightly, but barrels on nonetheless. “Well, we have this club that we can get into for free, even though we’re underage. I work there over the summer, and one of the bartenders has a soft spot for Andrew.”

Neil resists snorting at the improbability of anybody developing something as ridiculous as a soft spot for the prickly blond.

“We just have to sneak out to Hogsmeade through the passage on the fourth floor, and then I can Side Apparate everybody once we’re past the wards. I’m already licensed, because I’m a year older.” Neil frowns at the thought of giving up control to go along with Hemmick, and the other boy notices. “Hey, you’re stuck with me until Andrew’s allowed to use his wand again, and Aaron hasn’t passed the test yet.”

 _I know how to Apparate_ is on the tip of Neil’s tongue, but a glance towards Andrew makes him think better of revealing such a thing. He shrugs instead.

The group reaches the fourth floor, and Neil watches attentively as Hemmick taps a mirror and murmurs in Latin. It slides aside to reveal a dark passage. Hemmick turns to grin at Neil.

“Kinda cool, right? Andrew figured this out on one of his nighttime excursions. It seems quite new, so we think they built it after the Battle.”

The passageway is narrow, cool, and entirely black, allowing Neil no warning as it twists and turns. Hemmick keeps up a cheerful monologue the whole way, recounting various other secrets of the castle and urban myths he’s heard, and Neil carefully masks his interest. Hogwarts seems to fascinate Hemmick.

Finally, the passageway begins to slope upwards and the group abruptly comes to a stop. Neil walks into the back of Day, but springs backwards immediately and fingers his wand.

“We should be outside the wards now!” Hemmick explains from behind Neil. “Okay, I’ll just take the twins first, shall I?”

Neil waits patiently as a series of cracks and pops fill the tunnel, Hemmick disappearing and reappearing several times before it’s just him and Neil.

“You ready, Neil?” Hemmick asks. Neil silently offers him his arm. Hemmick hesitates. “Good luck tonight. You may need it.”

With that needlessly cryptic and dramatic statement, the two whirl away into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! hoping to update again soon! (and hopefully a nice long chapter...this is regrettably short, but something is better than nothing, eh? and i think that like...a lot of the exposition will be over by the end of the next chapter, sorry for all the weak world building we have going on now...) come bother me on tumblr at exysexual in the mean time!


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